‘Ah,’ said Mr Nark. ‘Is she? She may be. P’raps! I don’t know anything about women. She may be. Huh!’

Alleyn achieved a knowing laugh in which Fox joined.

‘You look below the surface, I see,’ said Alleyn.

‘I base my deductions on facts. Take an example,’ said Mr Nark. His third drink, a Treble Extra, had begun to have a mellowing effect. His native burr returned to his usually careful utterance and he smiled knowingly. ‘Take an example. I don’t say it’s true to natur’. It’s an illustration. A parrible. If I take a stroll up along Apple Lane of a warm night and hears a courting couple ‘tother side of hedge in old Jim Moore’s orchard, I draws my own conclusions. Doan’t I?’

‘No doubt.’

‘‘Ess. And ef,’ said Mr Nark, ‘ef I do bide thurr not with idea of eavesdropping but only to reflect and ponder in my deep bitter manner on the wiles of females in gineral, and ef I yurrs a female voice I axpects to yurr, and a maskeline voice I doan’t axpects to yurr, and ef,’ continued Mr Nark fighting his way to the end of his sentence, ‘I says “Hallo!” to myself and passes on a step, and ef I meets the owner of the maskuline voice I did axpect to yurr, standing sly and silent in hedge: what do I say? Wait a bit. Doan’t tell me. I’ll tell you. I says “Durn it!” I says, “thurr’ll be bloodshed along of this yurr if us doan’t look out.” And ef I bides a twelve month or more and nothing happens and then something does happen, bloody and murderous, what do I say then?’

Mr Nark raised his hand as a signal that this question also was rhetorical and paused for so long that Fox clenched both his fists and Alleyn had time to light a cigarette.

‘I sez,’ said Mr Nark loudly, ‘not a damn‘ thing.’

‘What!’ ejaculated Alleyn.

‘Not a damn’ thing. But I thinks like a furnace.’

‘What do you think, Mr Nark?’ asked Alleyn with difficulty.

‘I thinks ‘tis better to yold my tongue ef I want to keep breath in my body. And I yolds it. ‘Ess fay, I be mum and I stays mum.’

Mr Nark brought off a mysterious gesture with his right forefinger, leered knowingly at Alleyn, and tacked rapidly towards the door. Once there, he turned to deliver his last word.

‘Doan’t you go calling my words statements,’ he said, ‘they’re a nallegory, and a nallegory’s got nothing to do with the law. You doan’t trip me up thicky fashion. I know natur’ of an oath. Searchy la fem.’

CHAPTER 16
Alleyn Exceeds His Duty